Page 22 of Salvaging Christmas

“So it’s just you and me?”

“For now. Why? What’s on your mind?”

“I just—I hope last night’s antisocial dinner company is not a taste of what’s to come,” said Trevor, heading for the oven. There inside, piled high, he found a massive plateful of scrambled eggs, fried bacon, sausages, tomatoes and grilled mushrooms. “Heck, I can’t eat all that.”

“Don’t look at me, I’m stuffed. I think she left that much in case your new friend came back with you. Take what you want and leave the rest in the oven. The boys might be hungry later. I was about to go and shower.”

“Oh, okay,” said Trevor, coming to the table with his plate and trying to mask his disappointment.

“But now you’re here, I’m going to stay and keep my bestie company.”

“Thanks,” said Trevor, smiling and taking a seat across from her.

“And grill him about what he’s been doing with this apparently smouldering hot lodge owner’s son all morning. Who has yet to be introduced to me.”

Trevor poured himself a mug of coffee and smiled at the table. When he offered to fill up her cup, she placed a hand over the top and tilted her head to one side.

“Nothing to tell. He asked me to join him for an early morning stroll while the rest of you were sleeping off your hangovers. Wanted to show me the lay of the land, help me get my bearings while we’re here.”

“I bet he did,” said Cheryl, and he knew her well enough to decipher the tone. “Mum says that on the day we went into Fort William he rode over the crest of the glen, bare-chested, and helped you out of a ditch. The way Mum tells the story the only thing missing is his shield, a sword and a maiden to save.”

“You should have seen him, Cheryl. Talk about heroic wet dream. But he’s not aloof at all. He’s down to earth and easy to talk to. And very funny. He’s our kind of people, you know? He’s also straight, with an ex-girlfriend back in York.”

“Is that what he told you?”

“It is.”

“And you believed him?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, if she’s out of the running, turn him. If anyone deserves to drag one over from the other side, it’s you. Mum really likes him. She called him dashing, whatever that means. Makes him sound like he’s in a hurry.”

“Makes two of us, then.”

Trevor laughed at his own joke, and Cheryl joined in.

“As much as I’d love to convert him, the real world doesn’t work that way,” he said, sighing and forking a sausage with undue vehemence. “You’ll get to meet him tonight. I invited him to our Christmas Eve dinner.”

“You didn’t?” said Cheryl, looking aghast. “After what you just said? If tonight’s anything like last night’s séance, you’ll probably never see him again.”

“I’m hoping that having a third party at the table might thaw everyone out a little. I already gave him a download on the lot of us.”

“Everyone? Karl and Mary?”

“Everyone.”

“And he’s still coming?”

“I think so. I hope so.”

“Poor Rudy. Doesn’t know what he’s letting himself in for. That’s a whole lot of pressure.”

Trevor hoped Rudy would come, most of all because he enjoyed his company.

“Enough about me. Did you call Hannah?” he asked.

Cheryl thrust herself back from the table and testily scooped hair over her right ear.

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